Someday in Iraq
by RavenMaid
Summary: Sequel to 'London Times'. Following Harm's purposal to Mac, they must risk their lives to save that of a friend, but is his life worth, not just their lives, but the life of the woman he loves?
1. Default Chapter

Sequel to "London Times". I recommend reading it first, in order to better understand this one.  
  
Spoilers: Everything up to Christmas of seventh season.  
  
Disclaimer: I own neither JAG nor its characters. However, Agent Catherine Grey, Deputy Director Fallon, Director Anderson, and the Iraqi characters are mine.  
  
She shot up into a sitting position, clutching the sheet to her chest. Her breathing was quick and heavy, her heart racing. She was drenched in a cold sweat. She looked frantically around the darkened room, but the sight of the peaceful shadows cast by the moonlight seemed to sooth her.  
  
"Phew," she sighed, falling back against her pillows, "Just a dream. Oh, thank God."  
  
She brushed her tangled, wet hair off her forehead and straightened the sheet around her. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and snuggled more deeply into the pillow.  
  
Then, the phone rang, causing her to shoot upright once more. She scrambled over the bed and reached for the phone.  
  
"Hello?" she said anxiously, "Yes, this is she." There was a pause, "Missing? When?" Another pause, "And you waited this long to alert me?" She paused again. "No, I'm on my way in now." 


	2. Chap 2

Thursday 1400 Eastern  
  
JAG HQ  
  
Falls Church, VA  
  
Harm strode confidently across the Bullpen feeling on top of the world. In the four months since their Christmas charade in London, he and Mac had been in a whirlwind romance. After they had finally declared how much the meant to each other that night in the ICU, they'd been doing everything they could to prove it to each other. They did everything they could together, without giving the impression to their friends that something more than friendship was going on between them. Or, so they thought.  
  
Harriet, who was now eight months pregnant, sat at her desk watching, as Harm seemed to sachet around the people and desks in the bullpen on his way to the break room. She had to smile to herself, as she though, 'They may think they can hide it, but they're so obvious.'  
  
"What was that, Lieutenant?" a gruff voiced asked from above her.  
  
Harriet looked up wide-eyed, and was stunned to see Admiral Chegwidden standing over her desk. She rose to feet. "Sorry, sir," she said, praying that she hadn't voiced her thoughts.  
  
AJ gave her a stern look. "Keep your musings to yourself, Lieutenant," he said, and Harriet's eyes widened even more, "But as long as you keep your eyes on your work from now on, I'll overlook it."  
  
Harriet let out the breath she was holding. "Thank you, sir," she said wholeheartedly.  
  
"Carry on," AJ said, and he walked off toward the break room.  
  
Harriet watched him walk away, and then she sat down and chastised herself for not being more careful. In the end, she chalked it up to being pregnant.  
  
AJ knew that he shouldn't have let Lt. Simms off the hook so easily, but under the circumstances he really didn't want to pry. The love affair between two of his senior attorneys was just as obvious to him as it was to everyone else. He was just choosing to ignore it. As long as there was no verifiable evidence that they were in fact fraternizing with each other, he would continue to act dumb.  
  
Mac grinned as she sat at her desk and watched the Admiral walk away from Harriet's desk. Judging from the look on face, Harriet had let her tongue slip. Mac tried to turn her attention back to the file that lay on her desk, but then, a knock at her door forced her to look up. Standing in the doorway she saw Harm, holding a dozen red roses in a crystal vase.  
  
"Harm, you shouldn't have," she said smiling, but also knowing that he really shouldn't have brought her roses to work.  
  
Harm smiled broadly at her, as he pushed a stack of papers out of the way so he could place the bouquet on her desk. "I know, but I thought it might be nice," he said quietly as Mac pulled the card out of the bouquet.  
  
"'Thank you for risking it all'," Mac read aloud softly, and her eyes misted as she remembered the moment he'd said it in London. "I don't know what to say, Harm."  
  
"You don't have to say anything, Sarah," he assured her. He looked down into her misty eyes, and bent his head, but he stopped himself suddenly. Instead, of kissing they held each other with their eyes.  
  
Their intimate moment was broken when Sturgis poked his around the door. "Harm, the Mason case? Sometime today would be good." And he left, just as quickly as he had shone up.  
  
After a moment, Harm smiled guilty and said regrettably to Mac, "I have to get going."  
  
"Well, you owe me dinner then," Mac said, longing evident in her eyes.  
  
"I'll see you then, I promise."  
  
"You better," she warned. He paused at the threshold and looked back at her. He flashed his brilliant smile and then Mac watched as he walked across the bullpen and stepped into his office. She sat back in her chair and looked again at the roses. Her thoughts began to drift back over the last four months.  
  
In fact it had been four months and two weeks since Harm had taken her to meet his mother, stepfather and grandmother on Christmas Eve. That night had been the most magical of her life. She was surrounded by the loving family that she'd never had; and the next morning, Christmas morning, there were presents waiting for her under the tree.  
  
While her thoughts drifted, she got the sudden impulse to call Kate, Catherine Grey. While they had been in London, Kate had been their diplomatic aid, until they discovered that she was in fact an undercover CIA agent. Kate had become a very good friend of Mac's over the last few months because she too was involved in a forbidden relationship.  
  
However, it had been nearly two weeks since they had spoken. At first, Mac hadn't worried because she figured Kate was in the field somewhere and was unable to contact her. But, a few days ago, Mac had gotten that sinking feeling that told her something was wrong, and the only person she cared about who was unaccounted for was Kate.  
  
Mac picked up the phone and dialed Kate's office number. The phone rang four times before her voicemail picked up. Mac frowned as she listened.  
  
"This is the voice mail of Catherine Grey. Please leave your name and contact information, and I will try to get in touch with you."  
  
Kate's recording was different from the last time Mac had called her. This new one was cold and impersonal, much unlike Kate. Mac shook herself from her thoughts, and said, "Hi, Kate, it's Mac. You have my number. Please call me, I haven't heard from you in a while, and I just wanted to touch base."  
  
Mac replaced the phone in the cradle, but she didn't remove her hand. Instead, she stared at it while she tapped it with her fingernails pensively for a moment. Eventually, she decided to put her worried thoughts aside, and think about the night ahead of her instead. 


	3. Chap3

Thursday 1830 Eastern Harm's Apartment North of Union Station  
  
Harm was busy working over the stove while Mac set the table for dinner. He was making his vegetarian stir-fry, which was one of the few vegetarian dishes Mac actually ate without complaint. Harm pounded out a beat with his wooden spoon.  
  
"Harm," Mac called from the table, "You could at least tap in time."  
  
"In time with what," Harm called back; "There's no music on."  
  
Mac walked into the kitchen and came up behind Harm, circling his waist with her arms. She kissed the back of his neck.  
  
"Keep it up, Marine," he whispered playfully, "And I'll forget about your dinner."  
  
"Well, in that case," Mac said as she slipped her arms from his waist.  
  
Harm spun on her and gathered her tightly into his arms. "Let the dinner burn," he said huskily, just before he let his lips descend upon hers. He kissed her passionately, pouring all the kisses he'd wanted to give her throughout the day into that one kiss.  
  
She kissed him back; opening herself to the zealous passion that they concealed inside themselves. She arched herself into him, and he gripped her more strongly. Their lips broke contact for a moment, and Mac traced little kisses along his carved jaw line. He groaned deep in his throat. He slid his hands up to her shoulders and gently drew her away.  
  
"We'll just have dessert then," he said, his voice strained.  
  
Mac wet her lower lip, and looked up at him invitingly, as she reached out and drew her finger along the waist of his jeans. Harm's eyes blazed, and he drew them both down to the floor. Above them their dinner sizzled and burned.  
  
Thursday 1945 Local Harm's Apartment North of Union Station  
  
Harm and Mac never made it to the table that night. Their dinner had burned but neither of them cared very much; they sat in the bathrobes, contentedly eating ice cream on the couch. Mac was about to open a book, when Harm got up off the couch suddenly and bounded into the bedroom.  
  
"What's up?" she called to him.  
  
"Mac, come in here and get dressed," he yelled back.  
  
Mac groaned, but she pushed herself up off the couch. "Harm, why do I need to get dressed?" she asked when she came around the glass partition. Harm had already pulled on his jeans and was pulling a Navy sweatshirt over his head.  
  
Harm sat down and put on his socks, before he stood up again, and said, "Because I'm taking you somewhere."  
  
Ten minutes later, dressed in jeans and an oversized sweatshirt, Mac sat beside Harm in his SUV. They were heading into town, when Harm stopped for a red light. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. He began to fold it into a blindfold.  
  
"I hope you're not planning to use that," Mac warned playfully.  
  
Harm made a fake disappointed face. "Come on, Mac, trust me."  
  
Mac gave him a wary look, and took a deep breath, but she nodded and allowed Harm to tie the blindfold over her eyes. As soon as the blindfold was secure, Mac's other senses sharpened. She could smell Harm, not just his cologne and his soap, but him. The smell that was just his. She could hear his hands on the steering wheel, and she felt the turns of the SUV deep in her stomach.  
  
"Harm, where are you taking me?" she asked smiling.  
  
"You'll see."  
  
A few minutes later, Harm pulled the SUV to a stop. He turned off the ignition, and Mac reached up to remove the blindfold. Harm caught her just in time, "No, not yet," he said as he fixed it over her eyes, "Patience."  
  
Mac sighed, and sat back in her seat. Harm came around the car and helped her from the car. "That's it," he said softly, "One foot in front of the other."  
  
"Harm, I'm just blindfolded,"  
  
Harm chuckled. "Come on."  
  
Mac felt the hardness of the ground and knew that they were walking on concrete. She could smell and hear the city, but they weren't unpleasant sensations. The smell was fresh, like air after rain, and the city sounds were muffled. She realized that they must be near or in a park of some kind. They had walked at least two blocks, when Harm stopped. He still kept one hand on her arm.  
  
"Mac," he said softly looking at her face. She stood before him, her hair slightly unkempt because of the blindfold, dressed in jeans and tennis shoes, and she was still the sexiest woman he had ever known. "Mac, remember in London, when you said we'd been pretending for five years, and that a few more months wouldn't make much difference?"  
  
Mac's mind came to the exact moment she had said that. "Yes," she answered simply.  
  
"Well, I disagree," he said, and he paused and Mac could feel him shifting nervously, "I can't take another day of pretending that I don't worship the ground you walk on, that I don't hang on your every word."  
  
He paused again, and Mac was keenly aware of his quickening pulse as well as her own. Harm's hand had slid from her arm and was untying the blindfold. When it fell away from her eyes, she blinked, and slowly the scene around her came into focus. They were standing beside an iron fence, and beyond it stood the White House rose garden.  
  
"Harm," Mac gasped.  
  
"This is as close as I could get us," he said softly, and Mac turned to face him. He met and held her gaze for a long moment, before he slowly went down on one knee still holding both her hands in his. Mac gasped, and then she didn't know whether to giggle or cry, so she did both.  
  
"Sarah Mackenzie- partner, friend, soul mate, lover," he said, his eyes darting back and forth to each of hers. "Will you marry me?"  
  
Harm rose quickly off his knee, and embraced her tightly. He laughed, a full belly laugh, and swung her around as she laughed and cried. When he finally let her feet touch the ground again, he reached into his jean pocket, and pulled out a small black velvet box.  
  
He opened it, and positioned within it was a simple silver band with a single glittering diamond. Harm, taking the ring from the box, and sliding it slowly onto Mac's fourth finger, said, "This is the engagement ring that my father gave to my mother and that his father gave to his mother."  
  
He folded Mac's hands into his and squeezed them gently. "And, now it's yours." 


	4. Chap 4

Friday 0830 Eastern Central Intelligence Agency Washington, DC Offices  
  
Kate sat at her computer typing furiously fast. Her desk was cluttered with papers and she had her headset phone on. Her rich auburn hair was braided loosely down her back and her usually pressed suit was wrinkled, and like her desk and hair, somewhat disarrayed.  
  
"No, don't." she said sharply, then she added quietly to herself, "Put me on hold." She continued to type, and paused for only a few moments to read. She was instant messaging a source, but he had no useful information.  
  
"Thank you for taking my call, Deputy Director," she said when a voice finally came over the headset. "Oh, sorry. May I speak to him. you said he was in a meeting two hours ago. I can assure you that this is urgent. as soon as he gets out of that meeting. thank you."  
  
Kate made her hands into fists, took a deep breath, and then as she blew it out she unclenched them. She was trying to release the tension.  
  
"Be careful, Agent Grey," a masculine voice said from over her computer screen, "You're too young for high blood pressure, but if you're not careful."  
  
The man trailed off as Kate removed her headset and rose to her feet. "Mr. Fallon," she said crisply, "I wasn't expecting you."  
  
"Clearly," he said, disdainfully looking over her cluttered desk. He cleared his throat, and continued in a superior tone, "Agent Grey, your calls to my office have become somewhat bothersome for my secretaries."  
  
"Deputy Director," Kate began, "If you can give a few minutes, I really must speak with you."  
  
"You have two minutes, Agent Grey," he said shortly.  
  
"Sir, a few days ago I was informed that Deputy Director Webb missed a scheduled contact and hasn't yet regained contact with central. I've been looking into the matter for the last three days, and I have also discovered that nothing has been done to recover him."  
  
"Miss Grey," Mr. Fallon said, completely disregarding her title, "Webb's disappearance is none of your affair. Who authorized you to go looking into it?"  
  
"Mr. Fallon, Deputy Director Webb is my mentor," Kate said, withholding her contempt for Fallon from her voice, "I am concerned because CIA protocols haven't been followed in attempt to discover the reason for his disappearance."  
  
"Which is also none of your affair," Fallon told her callously.  
  
"Are you saying that you know protocols haven't been followed and that you're doing nothing about it?" Kate asked appalled.  
  
"Miss Grey, I suggest you leave this alone," he said imitating a pleasant voice, but his eyes and his tone were a veiled threat, "Mr. Webb's whereabouts are nothing for you to be concerned with. I am taking care of it."  
  
"Thank you for your reassurance," Kate said back in a matching tone. She defiantly met his eyes and held them for a long moment before he turned to leave.  
  
When he was out of sight and earshot, she struck her desk with her fist. The impact sent sharp stings of pain through her shoulder, which was not yet completely healed. She bit onto her lower lip to quench the exclamation of pain. She focused on trying to release the pain from her shoulder, and as the pain began to ebb away, her mind turned to options. The truth was, however, that she didn't have many left.  
  
She pulled herself toward her computer and began to type furiously again. After another hour at her computer she had written down several pages of notes. She paused to look them over before she smiled in a self- congratulatory way. She placed her headset back on, and she dialed another number. 


	5. Chap 5

Friday 0930 Eastern JAG HQ Falls Church, VA  
  
Mac walked into the bullpen the next morning and her face was glowing, but she looked troubled. Harriet spotted her and picked up on the odd behavior. As soon as Mac had taken her coat off, and put her briefcase down, Harriet was at her door.  
  
"Good morning, Harriet," she said brightly, and she began to shuffle through the messages already waiting on her desk.  
  
"Good morning, ma'am" Harriet replied, but then she caught the flash of the ring on Mac's finger. "Ma'am, is that what I think it is?"  
  
Mac looked up from the messages and smiled. "Close the door, Harriet."  
  
Harriet turned and closed the door quickly, and as soon as it was shut, she rounded on Mac, beaming at her. "Ma'am, congratulations!"  
  
"Harriet, shh," Mac assured her, shooing her friend into one of the empty chairs and sitting down next to her. When Harriet was comfortable, Mac began to tell her everything that had happened.  
  
Meanwhile, Harm was standing at attention in front of Admiral Chegwidden's desk. The Admiral sat silently seething behind the large piece of heavy oak, and Harm had the distinct impression that what was coming was worse that take down he'd gotten after firing an automatic weapon at the courtroom ceiling.  
  
When the Admiral finally, spoke he said calmly, "The last time you asked me for a transfer it was to go back to flying. You've given me no reason why you want to transfer now."  
  
Harm would have preferred a take down. "Sir, I have put in for a transfer so that I may expand another part of my life."  
  
"And which part would that be, Commander?"  
  
Harm swallowed, "My personal life, sir."  
  
AJ got up out of his chair and walked around the desk to stand next to Harm. He stared hard into Harm's face, as if daring him to flinch. In all the years that he'd used the technique on him, Harm had never done so. AJ decided to cut him a little slack, and acknowledge that he already knew why Harm had come to him.  
  
"Have you asked her to marry you, yet?"  
  
At that, Harm didn't just flinch, he turned his entire head to face the Admiral. AJ had to work very hard to keep the grin off from creeping into his lips. Harm snapped his head back to attention, and AJ walked around behind him and returned to stand behind his desk.  
  
"Yes, sir, I have," Harm answered when he found his voice.  
  
"I seem to remember telling you two not to get too close, but seeing as you haven't been able to accomplish that."  
  
Harm opened his mouth to interrupt, but the Admiral glared at him, and he shut it.  
  
"Are you sure you want a transfer, Commander?" he asked pointedly.  
  
Harm didn't hesitate. "Yes, sir," he said, "But, if I may, I'd like to request being stationed somewhere nearby, perhaps at the Pentagon or at Norfolk."  
  
The Admiral pondered Harm's statement for a moment, then replied, "I'll see what's available. Dismissed."  
  
"Aye, aye, sir," Harm said, and he turned and left the office. He glanced over at Mac's office on the way back to his own, but when he saw that her door was closed he continued on and went into his own.  
  
The rest of the day was torture for both Harm and Mac. They watched the Admiral's door every spare second they could. Every time he came out of his office they both looked up expectantly, but he didn't say anything. His expressions weren't helpful either. He gave away nothing. At they end of the day, they were both tied in knots. 


	6. Chap 6

1830 Eastern Harm's car Somewhere in Washington D.C.  
  
Harm and Mac were on their way to Mac's apartment for a late dinner, when Mac's cell phone rang.  
  
"Colonel Mackenzie," she answered, and Harm had a sudden thought, but he put it aside when he saw the serious glance Mac gave him, "Hi, Harriet." "Sure, we'd love to." "Two o'clock." "Can we bring anything?" "Of course." "Good night, Harriet."  
  
Harm smiled while Mac talked with Harriet, thinking that she had just accepted their first invitation as a couple. "What's up?" he asked.  
  
"Harriet and Bud are hosting a picnic this weekend," Mac told him, and then she had a sudden thought, "You know, I wonder if I could ask Kate to come."  
  
"I'm sure Harriet wouldn't mind," Harm said, "Call and invite her."  
  
"That's just it," Mac said, "I haven't been able to get a hold of her all week. You know, I get the feeling that something is wrong."  
  
Harm patted her knee. "Maybe you don't have enough food in your stomach," he said, trying to lighten the mood, but Mac shook his hand off and looked out the window.  
  
"Aw, Mac. I wasn't trying to make light of it."  
  
"It's not that, Harm," she assured him, "I just worry about these feelings."  
  
"Are they like your visions?" Harm asked, now genuinely concerned, but Mac shook her head.  
  
"No, not at all like them," she said, "I'm just really worried about Kate. It's not like her."  
  
Harm looked around at the street signs and said, "We're in her neighborhood, would you like to stop by?"  
  
"You wouldn't mind?"  
  
"Not at all."  
  
Twenty minutes later they had parked the car outside Kate's apartment building, and were walking up the steps to the third floor. When they reached number 306, Harm knocked firmly.  
  
"It's open," Kate called through the door.  
  
Harm looked at Mac, who nodded solemnly. He twisted the knob, and pushed the door open slowly. When he was sure there was no danger in sight, he opened the door full, but as he turned to allow Mac to enter, a sudden motion caught his eye. He jerked his head around and saw a woman in full ready stance aiming a 9mm Beretta at him.  
  
"Jesus," he breathed even as he drew himself to his full height and breadth to cover Mac completely.  
  
"Harm?" the woman gasped as she buckled her elbows and pointed the gun at the ceiling.  
  
"What the hell is going on?" Mac called impatiently as she tried to peer around Harm's broad shoulders.  
  
Kate slid the gun into the waist of her jeans at the small of her back. "Get in here," she said, motioning them inside.  
  
"Do you always answer your door with a gun?" Harm asked crossly.  
  
Kate showed them into her living room, which was a tasteful modern room with clean lines and muted colors. Despite the soft looking furniture none of them sat down.  
  
"You could have shot us," Harm accused her crossly. The look in his eyes could have pierced a Kevlar vest on its own.  
  
Kate shook her head. "No, the safety's on."  
  
"Kate, what's going on?" Mac asked concerned, but direct.  
  
Kate looked at her with a face Harm was sure Clay had taught her. It was the same face Clay used whenever he wanted to say something he knew he shouldn't. It looked better on Kate than it did on Clay, though. Despite the determined look, Kate appeared to be exhausted. There were dark circles under her emerald green eyes. Harm also noticed that the scar from her wound was still red; it was barely covered by the thin strap of her white tank top.  
  
"Kate, please," Mac tried to persuade her confidence, "Whatever's making you answer your door with a gun is serious. Maybe we can help."  
  
"No!" Kate said, suddenly energized. "You can't become involved with this. I'd never forgive myself if anything happened to you two. Not now."  
  
Harm was surprised by her abrupt protectiveness. He asked, "Kate does this have something to do with London?"  
  
"Please, just go," she begged as she ushered them toward the door.  
  
Harm stubbornly refused to move. "Kate, let us help you. We've been in some sticky situations before."  
  
"I can't let you help with this one," she said firmly. "Please, if you want to help, just stay out of it."  
  
"You can't ask us to ignore that you're in trouble," Mac told her.  
  
"I'm not asking you to," Kate replied, "Just give me the space and time I need to solve it alone." Both Harm and Mac looked as if they were going to argue further, but Kate held up her hand to silence them. "Please, don't make me force you out."  
  
Harm and Mac shared a look, and then Harm shrugged his shoulders dejectedly. "We know we can't make you accept our help," he said, then switched to an almost pleading tone, "Is there anything you'll let us do?"  
  
Kate looked at them both gratefully and said, "Pray."  
  
Both Harm and Mac nodded reluctantly and allowed Kate to show them out. "Kate, if you need us, you know where to find us," Mac told her before she was completely out the door.  
  
"I'll contact you," Kate assured them as she began to close the door, then she said, "Sarah."  
  
Both Mac and Harm turned to look hopefully at her. "Tabrik," she said with a small smile, and she shut the door.  
  
Mac stood, looking at the closed door, and a small grin spread on her face. Harm was confused. "What did she say?" he asked.  
  
"It was Farsi," Mac told him, and lifting her left hand for him to see the ring on her finger, she said, "It means 'congratulations.'" 


	7. Chap 7

Saturday 1330  
  
JAG HQ Falls Church, VA  
  
As Harm drove toward the Robert's new home, the feeling of dread in Mac's stomach intensified. The meeting with Kate the night before had shaken her more than she was willing to admit, even to herself. Every five minutes she had felt the urge to pick up the phone, call Webb and demand to know what was so dangerous that Kate would answer her door with a gun.  
  
"You're thinking about it, too," Harm said, not asking, but stating.  
  
Mac sighed, and smiled a little. Knowing that Harm was watching her and knew how she was feeling was some comfort. "I just can't shake it, Harm. I feel like something bad is happening."  
  
"What was your first clue?" he said, half-sarcastically and half-seriously as he turned a corner.  
  
"This isn't a joke, Harm," she scolded, "I am really worried about Kate. It's all I can do not pick up the phone and badger Clay for answers."  
  
"Don't bother," Harm said, then he admitted, "I've already tried. He's not answering."  
  
Mac smiled, and Harm returned the look. It wasn't necessarily a good thing that Webb wasn't answering his calls, but that was a usual occurrence. Harm had the sneaking suspicion that Clay screened his calls, and that his never made it through.  
  
When they arrived at the Roberts' they were relieved to have something else to think about. Little AJ came running out to meet his godparents, and for the next three hours Harm and Mac were swept into the Roberts' cozy family life.  
  
Monday 1030 Eastern JAG HQ Falls Church, VA  
  
The easy mood of the weekend was over, and Mac was back to worrying. She sat her desk burrowing deeper and deeper into the papers on it, finishing paperwork that really didn't need to be completed. She'd finished all of her regular paperwork and had started in on anything Harriet told her was pending. Harm had just settled a fresh vase of red roses on Mac's desk when the very pregnant lieutenant entered the office carrying more files. She deposited the files, and Harm got out of his chair and offered it to her.  
  
"Thank you, sir," she said cheerfully, though her voice was a bit tired.  
  
"How are you feeling Harriet?" Mac asked in a tone that covered her other worries.  
  
"I'm doing just fine ma'am," she said, "I can't wait for this one to be born, though."  
  
Both Harm and Mac smiled at Harriet's innocently guilty admission. It was hard to be worried or downtrodden when Harriet was around. He cheerfulness seemed to penetrate everyone. Harriet sighed softly, and the rose to go. She put both hands on her back and arched a little bit. When she returned to a regular standing position, she said, "Ma'am, those flowers smell glorious. May I?"  
  
"Of course," Mac replied, and pushed the vase closer to Harriet, but just as Harriet bent to inhale the sweet scent, she jerked back upright, her eyes wide. "Harriet?" Mac asked anxiously.  
  
"Ma'am, my water just broke," Harriet said, her eyes still wide with disbelief, then she looked at her stomach accusingly, "I wasn't serious when I said I couldn't wait." But then she screwed up her face. "Ow," she breathed, and she placed her hand over he extremely swollen stomach. "Please, get Bud."  
  
Harm had already left to collect the junior officer. Harm checked Bud's office, only to find it empty. He ran out into the bullpen and checked the assignment board. Bud was in court, prosecuting a case with Singer in front of Captain Sebring. This wasn't going to be pleasant.  
  
Harm ran down the hall, leaped down the steps two at a time, and ran to the doors of the courtroom. He waited and listened for a moment, then quietly entered. Captain Sebring looked directly at him as he walked briskly up the aisle to where Bud was sitting. Harm was aware of the Captain's eyes on him as he whispered the reason for his errand to the lieutenant. Bud shot out of his chair. "Uh, your honor," he stammered, "The prosecution would like to request a continuance."  
  
"Lieutenant Roberts, Commander Turner is in the middle of his cross," Captain Sebring said clearly annoyed, "Why do you want a continuance now?"  
  
"I'm having a baby," Bud blurted out, and Harm winced inwardly. "I mean my wife, your honor. She just went into labor."  
  
Captain Sebring looked at Commander Sturgis, who indicated that he didn't mind the continuance, and said, with a knowing smirk on his face, "Request granted. We'll reconvene in two weeks time. Court is adjourned."  
  
Bud barely had time to say 'thank you, your honor' before Harm hustled him out of the room. Singer gaped disapprovingly after them, and Sturgis hurried to follow. Harm made note of the fact that he'd never seen Bud move so quickly, except maybe when he had disarmed the bomb in Harm's apartment several years ago. They reached Mac's office in record time, but they had to shoulder past the rest of the staff in order to get there. Harm stopped at the door and let Bud go into the already crowded office. Mac sat on the floor supporting Harriet's back, while Admiral Chegwidden stood talking on the phone.  
  
"Harriet," Bud said softly when he finally reached his wife's side.  
  
"Bud, it's too soon," Harriet moaned quietly.  
  
"I know, sweetie, but we'll be okay," he soothed. "Ma'am has anyone called an ambulance?"  
  
"On the phone with them now, lieutenant," the Admiral told him, "Just making sure they get the right woman this time."  
  
Smiles flitted across the faces of the onlookers, and Harriet seemed to finally notice their presence. She looked up at Mac, begging her to do something about the crowd. Mac in turn looked to Harm. Harm understood the silent message and began to shoo everyone back to work, or at the very least away from the office.  
  
Three hours later, Mac and Harm sat in the uncomfortable hospital waiting room chairs waiting for news on Harriet. They had called Mikey, Big Bud, and Harriet's parents in Florida and filling them in on the situation. They both knew, of course that none of them were likely to come. Mikey was at Annapolis, Harriet's parents were too far away, and Big Bud usually avoided family get-togethers. So, they waited anxiously alone, hoping that Harriet and the baby were okay.  
  
Inside the birthing room, was another story. Bud held Harriet's hand tightly as she groaned through another contraction. Her eyes were squinted shut and her jaws clamped tightly together. Then, it was over. The pain had subsided, but only long enough for the doctor to say, "Alright, Harriet, on the next one I want you to push," the doctor ordered, and a moment later, the contraction hit, "Now Harriet, push!"  
  
Harriet beared down and pushed as hard as she could. Her face returned to its contorted expression, and she barred her clenched teeth as she groaned.  
  
"Come on, sweetie," Bud coaxed, and Harriet opened her scared eyes to him.  
  
"Harriet, the head is out," the doctor said, "One more big push!"  
  
Another contraction hit, and Harriet pushed with everything she had left in her. Her body tensed and her mind focused on her single objective. Behind her eyelids was no longer dark, but bright white with the tension of shutting them so hard. She felt all her muscles screaming with the effort, and finally, she felt her child pass from her and into the world.  
  
At that moment, Harm and Mac heard the cries of the newborn and smiled at each other. Mac's eyes were over-bright with unshed tears, and Harm pulled her into a tight hug. "Some day," he whispered, "Promise."  
  
Mac sniffled and nodded against him. A few minutes later Bud walked into the waiting room, and they both rose to greet the proud father. He beamed up at them proudly. "It's a girl! Six pounds, five ounces, eighteen inches long."  
  
Both Harm and Mac let out the breaths they hadn't realized they'd been holding. Mac smiled widened as Harm said, "Congratulations, Bud," and clapped the younger man on the shoulder.  
  
"How's Harriet?" Mac asked her voice happy but a little worried.  
  
"She's doing just fine," Bud said, "The baby is a little premature but the doctors say she's going to be just fine."  
  
Again, Harm and Mac shared a sigh of relief. Bud smiled again, then he shrugged, "I'd better get back to Harriet."  
  
"Wait," Harm called at Bud's retreating back. Bud turned around expectantly, and Harm asked, "What did you name her?"  
  
Bud looked heavenward, wondering how he could have forgotten to tell them the new baby's name. "Erin," she told them. "Erin Kathleen Roberts."  
  
"Good name," Mac said, still smiling. "Give our best to Harriet." Bud nodded and disappeared back into the room with his wife.  
  
Harm shook his head contentedly, "Erin Roberts. Good name."  
  
"A very good name," Mac corrected as she laced her arm into Harm's and they walked tiredly out to the parking lot.  
  
The drive was quiet and happy for them both. They listened contentedly to the radio and just basked in the miracle that had just taken place.  
  
"Thank God she made it to the hospital for this one," Mac finally said, and Harm smiled broadly at the memory of little AJ's arrival in his namesake's office. "We should probably call the Admiral," he said.  
  
Mac pulled her cell phone from her briefcase and dialed. "Tiner, this is Colonel Mackenzie." Mac gave Harm an exasperated look, which he knew meant that Tiner was plaguing her with questions. "Just put me through, please Tiner."  
  
"Admiral, this is Colonel Mackenzie." Pause. "Yes, Lt. Simms is alright." Another pause. "A girl, sir, Erin Roberts." Mac paused again. "Six pounds, four ounces, eighteen inches." Pause. "Yes, sir, mother and daughter are both happy and healthy." Mac waited. "Goodnight, sir."  
  
Mac put her cell phone back down, and turned her exasperated face to Harm. I think the Admiral is more a grandpa than he'll ever admit."  
  
Harm smiled, and for a while silently thinking about the possibility of having his own children some day. He knew it would be a huge challenge, and a major commitment. Mac seemed to read his mind. She was thinking about children, too. She was ready for that commitment, but knew that Harm wasn't. It had been a big step for him to commit to marriage, and Mac knew not to push him too hard, too fast. So, she sat back and thought happily to herself about the little boy or girl they would have one day. 


	8. Chap 8

Monday 1400 Eastern Earlier that day CIA Washington D.C. Offices  
  
After Harm and Mac had left her apartment the night before, Kate slept little, and, now, she stood outside the office of the Director of the CIA, Mr. David Anderson. She had spoken with the director on several occasions, but Clay had always been with her then. Clay had known the director for years and the two men were friends. She took a deep breath, and refused to allow herself to feel timid.  
  
"He'll see you now," the secretary said and she motioned Kate to the door.  
  
Kate had just passed through the door to the office when her resolve was shaken. Sitting across the desk from Director Anderson was Fallon. Kate didn't pause, but continued to walk briskly into the room.  
  
When she had reached the director's desk she stood waiting for him to address her.  
  
"Please, take a seat Agent Grey," Director Anderson finally said, and Kate sat to the left of Fallon. "Deputy Director Fallon tells me that you have been harassing his secretaries for the last few days."  
  
Kate shot an angry glance at Fallon, then she looked at the Anderson. "Sir, I've."  
  
"He says you've plagued his secretaries trying to get a meeting with him," Anderson continued as he tapped his pen on the desk, "And now you've come to my office. What's so important, Agent Grey?"  
  
"Mr. Director, I have reason to believe that CIA protocols have not been followed with regard to Deputy Director Webb's disappearance," she said strongly, "I was attempting to address the issue with Mr. Fallon when he informed me that he already knew of it."  
  
Director Anderson considered this statement for a short moment, but he said, "Agent Grey, Mr. Webb's disappearance really isn't any of your concern."  
  
Kate was stunned but the Director's apparent disregard for her concern, especially considering that Clay was one of his friends too. But she continued, her tone confident, "Mr. Director I am concerned about protocols not being followed because I believe that the reason Mr. Webb disappeared is tied to the espionage ring he was trying to break."  
  
"Well, that was the case he was working on," Anderson said, "Agent Grey, I want you to drop this little investigation of yours."  
  
Kate lost control over her stony features and she looked at the Director with shock and disgust. "Director Anderson, Mr. Webb is your friend," she said aghast, "And he's my mentor. You can't ask me to sit back and do nothing, even if you are content to do so."  
  
Her words seemed to hang in the tense air. Director Anderson looked from her to Fallon and back again, "Agent Grey, you're in no position to say that. In fact, you're being down right insolent."  
  
Kate opened her mouth to speak again, but at a look from Director Anderson, she closed it. Director Anderson looked disappointedly at his desk. When he looked up he addressed Fallon, "John, please excuse us for a moment." Fallon nodded arrogantly, and Anderson continued, "I need to deal with Agent Grey."  
  
Fallon walked boldly from the office and as soon as the door was shut, Kate blurted out, "Sir, before you discipline me, I have to."  
  
"Damn it, Grey," the Director burst out. The Director's temper exploded. Kate sat back in her chair and waited for him to finish his tirade. She weathered it well, until he said, "As a result of you poorly chosen actions, you are suspended. With out pay."  
  
She gaped at him. "Suspended? I haven't done anything that justifies a suspension, director."  
  
"You've been digging, and that's more that enough, Agent Grey," he said coldly, "Get out of my office. Security will escort you out of the building."  
  
"Mr. Anderson, you can't do this," she erupted, "He's a good agent, and he's your friend!"  
  
The Director looked down at his desk and didn't even acknowledge Kate's presence in his office. Kate gave one more disbelieving sigh, then turned on her heel and walked out of the office. Fallon was waiting for her.  
  
"Agent Grey," he said smugly, "I believe this is your escort." Two security guards stood just behind him.  
  
Kate shot him a look that would have felled any other man, but Fallon was too busy snubbing her to care. The security guards walked her back to her office, where they waited outside for her to gather her things. She finished up her work on the computer, collected her cell phone, pager, and papers into her briefcase, locked the drawers, and left.  
  
She was steaming. Director Anderson was more that Clay's boss; he had known his father. Christ, Clay was like a son to him. That bastard. And a suspension; now, when she needed to be at the office more than ever. As her raging thoughts began to ebb away to reason, she shifted her thoughts to what to do next. All of her options were exhausted. She was too close, to Clay to be as objective as an operative had to be, but who else would care enough to find him. Who could? 


	9. Chap 9

Tuesday 0930 Local JAG HQ Falls Church, VA  
  
Harm and Mac were bombarded by questions about Harriet and the new baby when they arrived at work that morning. Everyone wanted to know everything about the baby. By the time they had reached the conference room for the daily staff meeting, they had already decided to that they should just hang a sign on the bulletin board and let everyone read it for themselves. They sat down on opposite sides of the table and sat comfortably awaiting the Admiral; when he finally entered, he was already looking sour.  
  
"Keep you seats," he ordered briskly, "Let's keep this short. I have another meeting that's already started."  
  
A few nervous glances were shared between the officers. No one wanted to upset the Admiral anymore than was necessary. Mac looked around the table, and upon seeing everyone else suddenly over interested in the information they had brought with them, she decided to speak first.  
  
"Admiral, as you know, Harriet gave birth to a healthy baby girl last night," she began, more for everybody who didn't already know than for the Admiral, "Which means Harriet will be one reserve duty for a few weeks or months. We'll need to start looking for someone who can run the office while she's away."  
  
"I think Gunnery Sergeant Galindez is fit to that task, Colonel," the Admiral pointed out.  
  
"Yes, sir. The Gunny is very capable," Mac continued cautiously, "But he and Harriet often shared the duties. I think the whole office may be too much for one person to handle to the best of his ability."  
  
The Admiral nodded. "Talk to the Gunny. If he feels that he'll need someone to help out, I'm sure we can find someone." He paused to consult the papers in front of him before continuing, "It looks like we've got a light case load at present, so if there is no more pressing business." He trailed off as he rose to his feet. "Rabb, Mackenzie, I want to see you in my office in ten minutes."  
  
"Aye, aye, sir," they answered together, both of them standing at attention. As soon as the Admiral had left, they shared a confused look. They weren't the only ones.  
  
"What's up?" Sturgis asked them.  
  
Mac shrugged as she left the office to returned to her desk, but Harm grinned and said, "Sounds like he's been on the phone with the SECNAV already."  
  
Sturgis shared the grin, and shook his head.  
  
Ten minutes later, Harm and Mac stood waiting outside the Admiral's office. Tiner, who didn't look very busy, was asking them all kinds of questions about the baby. Mac finally got fed up and told him to call Bud and ask him. Tiner looked severely chastised, but he didn't have long to brood. The Admiral had called Harm and Mac into his office.  
  
Harm and Mac looked briefly at each other, both wondering the same thing: what had Harm done now?  
  
They entered the office, and noticed right away that they were not the only people standing before the Admiral's desk. A young woman stood ramrod straight, navy blue uniform squared away. Her hair was cut short, and it flipped out just above her collar. But the color of it made Mac uneasy. She and Harm both came to attention in front of the Admiral's desk.  
  
When he finally addressed them he said, "Commander, Colonel, I'd like you to meet Lieutenant Walden." Harm and Mac both turned to greet the young officer, but they both stopped and gaped openly at her. "I believe you already know her as Special Agent Catherine Grey."  
  
The Admiral leaned back in his chair and watched at comprehension dawned on their faces. Harm looked incredulous, and Mac looked miserably at Kate. "Oh, Kate, your hair," she said softly, touching Kate's short upturned locks. Kate shrugged a little, but said nothing.  
  
Finally the Admiral said, "Special Agent Grey has just been telling me that she needs our help with a mission in the middle-east. Agent Grey, please continue."  
  
"Sir, I need Colonel Mackenzie and Commander Rabb to get me into Iraq. Once I'm there I can find him."  
  
"Find who?" Harm asked, looking from Kate to the Admiral.  
  
"Webb," Kate told him simply. Harm shook his head, thinking that he should have listened to his gut when he'd thought Clay had something to do with why Kate answered he door with a gun.  
  
"How are we supposed to 'get you in'?" Mac asked. "It isn't easy to smuggle someone into another country, let along someone whose passport reads "CIA Operative" as occupation."  
  
"That's why I'm in uniform, ma'am," Kate told her. "We go out to the Seahawk, where you will be conducting a routine review of the legal system on board; I've checked the records, and she is due for a review. Once we're on board, you will discover some reason to go ashore."  
  
"What reason?" Mac asked suspiciously.  
  
"There will be an open case requiring you to interview a witness who resides in Baghdad, ma'am. We will fly into Baghdad, conduct the interview, and then we will find Clay."  
  
"Miss Grey, I can spare the Commander and the Colonel for a week at most," the Admiral told her, and then he asked skeptically, "How do you intend to find Mr. Webb?"  
  
Kate nodded, accepting his skepticism. "Admiral, Webb trained me. I know all of his methods, every contact, every contingency plan. If you can get me to Baghdad, I can find him."  
  
There was a stiff silence as they waited to the Admiral to make his decision. As much as he despised the CIA, its policies, its operations, and the way it used its people, he liked this young woman. She had spirit, as well as discipline. Every phrase she had spoken had begun or ended with sir or ma'am. "Rabb, Mac," he finally said, "Are you willing to take this assignment?"  
  
"Absolutely, sir," Mac replied, her face set.  
  
"Yes, sir," Harm said.  
  
The Admiral nodded. "Then, you have one week. Dismissed."  
  
Kate joined Harm and Mac in coming to attention and saying "Aye, aye" before they turned to leave the office. "Oh," the Admiral called to their backs, "Don't get in to too much trouble."  
  
Harm and Mac stalked angrily across the bullpen, Kate walking briskly between them. Judging by the looks on the senior attorneys' faces and Kate's guilty silence, it looked like Kate was a prisoner being escorted to the brig. When they reached Harm's office, Harm went in first, Kate second, and Mac shut the door rather harder than she intended to behind them.  
  
Kate stood at attention in front of Harm's desk. The air was so think with tension that it seemed to crackle. Mac walked slowly around the room and came to stand behind Harm who was now seated. Kate could feel both sets of eyes boring through her.  
  
"Miss Gr," Harm started.  
  
"Commander," Kate interrupted, looking over Harm's head and out the window. "I had to do it this way, sir. I truly apologize for the inconvenience."  
  
"'Inconvenience'?!" Harm repeated heatedly. "'Inconvenience' doesn't begin to describe what you just caused. Do you have any idea how many regulations and laws you've just asked us to violate?"  
  
"And not just us," Mac continued when Harm paused for breath, "You pulled our C.O. into this as well. An Admiral, the Judge Advocate General! What did you think you were doing?"  
  
"Ma'am, it was the only way," Kate said, her eyes still focused straight ahead.  
  
"You don't have to carry on this charade with us, Grey," Harm said frustrated, "Stop standing at attention."  
  
"I can't, sir," she replied, and both Harm and Mac shot her extremely annoyed looks. "Please, give me a chance to explain." She had taken her eyes from the window and was looking pleadingly at them both in turn.  
  
Mac looked at Harm, and he looked back. As Kate watched they silently came to a decision, and finally Mac addressed her, "All right, Lieutenant, explain yourself."  
  
Relieved, Kate took a deep breath and began to explain. "I've been suspended from the CIA, ma'am," she said heavily.  
  
Mac's head jerked up and Harm's mouth fell open. "This isn't a sanctioned mission?" Mac asked, her shock evident. "You got the Admiral's permission by telling him this was CIA backed."  
  
Kate nodded solemnly. "With all due respect, ma'am, I don't think that had anything to do with the Admiral's decision." Harm was forced to smile ruefully at the truth in that statement. Kate continued, "I know it sounds bad, but I think there's more at stake here than just-- just Clay's life."  
  
Harm looked at Kate through the awkward silence that had fallen. He knew there had to be something she wasn't telling them. Kate seemed to understand because she said, "I think Clay's disappearance has something to do with the espionage ring we were trying to break in London, and I think it goes a lot farther than we thought it did."  
  
After a few moments, Harm nodded. "All right, let's do it." 


	10. Chap 10

Chap 10 Tuesday 1945 USS Seahawk Somewhere in the Persian Gulf  
  
The flight out to the Seahawk had been much less eventful than Mac had expected. Although she knew that Kate was a very good agent, she was almost positive that her military ID's wouldn't pass inspection. Thankfully, they had. At every checkpoint, Kate presented her ID, and the guard waved her on.  
  
Once they'd boarded the plane that would take them out to the carrier, Mac was sure everything was going to go as planned. Harm, however, was extremely tense. He had the eerie feeling that someone was watching him. Not to mention the fact that he was knowingly walking into danger just when his life had started to calm down. And he wasn't going alone, either. He was dragging Mac into the breach as well. Every other thought that raced through his mind was a "what if," and each of them centered on Sarah.  
  
Kate was the only one who seemed at ease with the mission. Through the entire trip she'd been reading papers, or just sitting still and thinking. She actually looked like a JAG lawyer. Not even the three-wire trap on the carrier ruffled her cool composure. As she followed Harm and Mac off of the plane, she felt the cold ocean breeze whipping around her face and cursed her short hair as its ends slapped her cheeks with razor sharpness.  
  
Harm walked out in front of Mac and Kate, his stride quick and businesslike. He headed straight for an officer he knew had to be waiting for them. He was an extremely skinny young man, whose glasses rested at an irksome angle on his face, barely concealing his beady black eyes. Despite his nerd-like appearance he managed a smart salute, which Harm and Mac returned.  
  
"Colonel Mackenzie, Commander Rabb," he addressed them as he led them off the deck and below, "I'm Lieutenant Carlisle, Seahawk JAG. Allow me to welcome you on board."  
  
"Thank you, Lieutenant," Mac called over the noise of an F-14 taking off. "It's a return visit. This is Lieutenant Walden." Kate nodded as she was introduced, but Lt. Carlisle was too distracted to do the same. Rather then be offended, Kate turned to follow his gaze.  
  
Harm had stopped walking and was staring at an F-14 that was powered and ready for launch. It's silver wings gleaming in the unobstructed sunshine, the glare from the canopy nearly blinding him. Through the glare he caught a fleeting glimpse of the pilot and RIO. He grinned widely and broke into a heartfelt laugh.  
  
"HARM!" He registered this voice; it was Mac yelling at him. He turned to her, but just enough so that he could still see the Tomcat launch.  
  
"It's Skates!" He yelled back to her. At that moment there was a loud whoosh and Skates plane catapulted off of the deck and into the sky where it rose in a steep arch away from the carrier. He turned fully to see an irritated Lt. Carlisle, a slightly baffled Lt. Walden, and an amused Mac.  
  
"Come on, flyboy," she said lightheartedly when he'd rejoined them, "No flying this trip."  
  
Harm half-grinned and shrugged grudgingly. He knew he wouldn't be able to fly this time, but, hey, a man could dream. 


	11. Chap 11

CHAP 11 Wednesday 0600 Local USS Seahawk Somewhere in the Persian Gulf  
  
Mac awoke in the dark bunk and had to remind herself of where she was. Her internal clock told her that it was 0600, and she knew that that was just too early to be awake. The long flight and the several hours of planning a review she had no intention of carrying out had exhausted both her body and her mind. It was an unusual feeling for her.  
  
In the bunk below her, Kate was already stirring. She'd swung her legs over the side of the bunk. She's worn plain navy blue cotton shorts and a white tank top to bed. As she stood up and stretched, Mac was reminded of the time she'd jumped out of bed in almost identical attire and seen two young seamen standing just inside her door. She smiled to herself and sat up.  
  
"G'morning," she yawned. Kate nearly hit the ceiling, and Mac added, "Didn't mean to scare you, Lieutenant."  
  
Kate held her hand to her chest, and shook her head at playfully at Mac. "Good morning, ma'am."  
  
Kate turned around and began to pull her short hair as if she was going to put it into a ponytail. Halfway through the motions she stopped suddenly and let her hair fall. Mac recognized the gesture. "It was like that when I chopped mine off," she said as she jumped down from her bunk. Kate smiled back wistfully.  
  
"I don't miss the weight," she admitted, "But I really miss the feel of my hair."  
  
Mac smiled, trying to commiserate with her friend. They both dressed quickly, Mac into her khaki and olive, and Kate into her plain khaki. As Kate buttoned her shirt, Mac caught sight of the still healing wound in her abdomen. When she heard the sharp intake of breath, Kate knew what Mac had seen.  
  
The wound, though originally only two inches long, was now a five-inch angry red scar. It had had to be elongated by the surgeons who had struggled to save her life just four months ago. As a Marine, Mac had seen many wounds, but seeing this wound was different. Kate was a friend, and this wound was a reminder, or a warning, of what they were now up against.  
  
"Ma'am," Kate said softly, "Are you alright?"  
  
Mac nodded. "I'm fine Lieutenant," she said in her best Marine voice. "Let's go."  
  
"Yes, ma'am." Kate turned away and quickly finished her dressing and pulled her short hair back into a half ponytail, the ends flipped out, making her look like five years younger.  
  
They met up with Harm in the mess hall, waiting in line for breakfast. Harm had already tracked down Skates and was talking flying. Mac rolled her eyes at her partners back as she filled her coffee cup. Kate kept her face turned down and her nose buried in a manila folder.  
  
"Lieutenant, give me that folder and get some food," Harm said taking the file from her.  
  
Kate looked up wide-eyed. "Yes, sir."  
  
Skates watched after her, smiling quizzically. "She reminds me of someone," she mused, and then snapped her fingers, "Is she related to Lieutenant Roberts?"  
  
Harm laughed heartily. Now that he thought about it, Kate had been a lot like Bud since they had landed on the carrier. She'd followed him and Mac around taking notes, reading obscure files, and gazing openly at the other sailors with an almost dreamy look on her face.  
  
When they'd finished their breakfast, they headed to the legal office, where Lieutenant Carlisle was already seated at his desk preparing more files for their review. There was a stack almost a foot tall teetering on the corner of his desk. "Commander, Colonel, good morning," he said as he rose from his chair. "Lieutenant," he said in a much more friendly tone to Kate. He smiled warmly, causing his glasses to slide farther down his nose.  
  
Kate blushed, and took the pile of folders from his desk. She settled them on the side table and began flipping through so fast that it was impossible that she was reading at all. Lieutenant Carlisle seemed to remember that Harm and Mac were in the room as well, and turned his attention back to his desk. Harm and Mac shared a curious look before they too plunged into the files.  
  
For the next hour, the four of them pored over the many files still scattered around Lieutenant Carlisle's small office. Harm had read and re- read the same paragraph three times before he gave up. He looked up and saw that Mac was sitting rigidly in her chair, her eyes closed and her face closed. When she opened her eyes, Harm tried to convey his concern to her. She, seeing his concern, smiled reassuringly at him and shrugged . She picked up the folder she had been reading and bent back over the desk.  
  
Another hour had passed before they had finally found the file they'd been waiting to discover. Kate picked it up, and walked to Lieutenant Carlisle's desk. "This case has yet to be completed, ma'am," she said handing the file to Mac.  
  
Mac skimmed the contents of the file as Harm stood and read them over her shoulder. Lieutenant Carlisle looked a bit disconcerted and was shifting in his chair.  
  
"Lieutenant Carlisle, this investigation should have been completed weeks ago," Harm said, pinning the junior officer with a stern glare.  
  
"Which investigation, sir?" Carlisle asked uncertainly.  
  
"The Harrison investigation," Mac said, almost annoyed. "Petty Officer Abdul Jihara."  
  
Carlisle looked at her blankly; he obviously had no recollection of the file. "It says here that he was found with an Iraqi passport in his name. Why wasn't this investigated?"  
  
"I don't know, sir," Carlisle said plainly embarrassed. "I don't remember an investigation of any sailor by that name."  
  
"It's dated from about a month ago," Mac said, "How long have you been aboard?"  
  
"Twenty-two days, ma'am."  
  
Mac nodded. "Looks like your predecessor missed a pretty major investigation. Or let it slide."  
  
"Ma'am, maybe we should contact someone at immigration," Kate suggested in her best Bud imitation yet. "Maybe he was an Iraqi citizen who'd come to the US and joined up."  
  
"Or, he could be a spy for Al Queda," Harm mused. "Lieutenant Carlisle, I don't want you to share this with anyone, understood?"  
  
"Yes, sir," Carlisle replied, still thunderstruck.  
  
"The Colonel and I will take it from here. Will you excuse us?" Lieutenant Carlisle snapped to attention, and when Harm nodded he left the office. "Lieutenant Walden, I want you to arrange a phone call for me to JAG HQ. I need to speak with Admiral Chegwidden."  
  
"Aye, sir," Kate said and left the room; all the pieces had fallen exactly into place. 


	12. Chap 12

Kate led them down a dusty, deserted alley. They were all dressed in civilian Iraqi clothing; Mac and Kate wore loose fitting dresses and head scarves, while Harm wore a brown tunic over rough baggy pants. Dust and grime covered their faces, and there were dark circles on their eyes from two days of searching.  
  
Their search had led them out of Baghdad before nightfall on the first day. They'd travelled into the desert, and now they were in a small village. Kate stopped at the end of the alley, looked up and down the street, and then walked purposefully up to the building across the main street.  
  
"What are you doing?" Harm asked, when he and Mac caught up with her.  
  
"Quiet," she hissed, "Don't say anything."  
  
Mac was surprised by her sudden sharpness, but a moment later she understood. A rectangular viewing space opened in the door, and a pair of menacing eyes stared out at them. "Who are you?" a deep voice, that Mac could understand, asked.  
  
"Mr. Abib, it's Catherine Grey," Kate answered, and Harm stared at her.  
  
The viewing space closed and they were forced to wait in suspense. They listened and waited. After a few seconds they were rewarded with the clicking of locks springing open on the other side of the door. Abib stood before them and motioned them inside. They were soon seated on the floor around a low table, Kate sat more forward than Harm or Mac.  
  
"Miss Grey, you are out of place," Abib told her coldly. He looked pointedly at Harm.  
  
"My friend doesn't speak the language, Mr. Abib," Kate said superiorly.  
  
"English, then," Abib said, and Harm understood what was going on.  
  
Kate stared at Abib, her displeasure evident, but she pulled her lips together tightly and didn't say anything. She rose from her seat, indicated that Harm should take it, and then she plopped sourly down beside Mac. Mac, seeing Kate anger, put a steady hand on her knee.  
  
Harm now sat facing Abib. Both men were eye the other up. Abib was as short as Harm was tall, but he had the same arrogant aire about him. Harm tried to look as submissive as possible, trying to lure Abib into a false sense of security. Abib got up and returned to the table with a tray laden with glasses and a pitcher. He poured drinks for everyone and then returned to his seat. Harm was hesitant, but when he saw Kate take a sip out of the corner of his eye, he drank from his own glass. He coughed and sputtered.  
  
"Too strong for you?" Abib asked playfully, a cheshire grin on his face. Harm put his hand to his throat as he exhaled quickly, trying to clear the burning taste of the drink. "Don't worry, Commander, most westerners can't handle the taste."  
  
A palpable silence descended upon the room. "How do you know that?" Harm asked him.  
  
"Mr. Webb has often spoken of you, Mr. Rabb," Abib answered. "And you Miss Mackenzie," he added in Farsi.  
  
"It's Colonel, and how do you know Mr. Webb?" Mac bristled at Abib's careless address. In fact, he ignored her completely.  
  
This rude action did not escape Harm's notice, but he refused to let it show. "Mr. Abib, how long have you known Mr. Webb?"  
  
"I met Webb on his first visit to the area," Abib told him in a greasy tone. "That was many years ago."  
  
"When was the last time you saw him?" Harm asked, turning his glass absently in his hands. His mind seemed sluggish.  
  
"I have not seen Mr. Webb in two weeks," he said in the same smooth, candied voice. "I am worried that he may not be doing well."  
  
"What do you mean?" Harm asked, his speech slurred. He shook his head trying to clear his mind, and his vision. Distantly he heard a thud behind him.  
  
"I heard he was in trouble," Abib answered, but Harm couldn't process the information. Abib had gone fuzzy around the edges. Harm swayed and fell over; the last thing he remembered were Abib's feet and the feel of the coarse rug. 


End file.
